


The Devil's Touch

by sal_si_puedes



Category: Supernatural, Wincest - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, D/s, Hair-pulling, Kneeling, M/M, Rough Oral Sex, Sub Dean, d/s dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 21:19:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7657126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sal_si_puedes/pseuds/sal_si_puedes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set shortly after Sam has completed the first trial (s08e14, Trial And Error), the Winchesters have yet another fight about Dean doing the trials instead of Sam. A shouting match ends with Sam shutting Dean up by fucking his mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Devil's Touch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BaronSamedi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaronSamedi/gifts).



> Inspired by [this beautiful pic](http://baronsamediswife.tumblr.com/post/148255723747/beanmom-subdean-headcanon-this-is-actually) [Myri](http://baronsamediswife.tumblr.com/) reblogged the other day.

The silence rings loudly in Sam’s ears, the air in their grimy motel room still buzzing with the epic shouting match that has just come to an end. 

Again, with the trials, and even though Dean knows that it has already been decided, that things already are in motion and that there is no way around it, not anymore, not ever.

Dean is panting and his eyes are narrowed to mere slits and Sam watches them gradually widen until they are only a little more open than usual. He can see himself reflected in them and that image stares back at him for an eternity because Dean never blinks.

Dean never blinks, he only raises his chin the tiniest bit and his hands ball into even tighter fists when his eyes become first a little dull and then start to water with moisture. 

Sam doesn’t blink either, he just holds Dean’s gaze, his stare, and he watches how Dean’s eyes cloud and brighten in rapid succession. He more hears than sees how Dean bites his lips after that weird little hitch of his breathing and for a moment he thinks he can hear the blood rushing through Dean’s veins. 

From the corner of his eye he sees how Dean’s fists clench even more for a moment before they finally relax a bit.

Dean releases a slow, shuddering breath and when Sam nods at him so subtly it’s barely visible, he casts his eyes down and slowly sinks down to his knees.

Sam watches him struggle a little, swaying and concentrating on first catching and then keeping his balance, clearly unfamiliar with the movements, but when he’s settled, he crosses his wrists behind his back just like that and Sam’s heart misses a beat.

He reaches for Dean’s jaw and lifts his head until their eyes meet again.

“So you figured it out, hmm?” He tilts his head and runs his thumb over Dean’s lips, the calluses tugging at the sensitive skin. “Finally.”

Dean’s lips open ever so slightly and Dean’s hot breath touches Sam’s finger.

On a sharp inhale Sam repeats the gesture and Dean all but leans into the touch. 

“Sammy,” he whispers, and his lips brush against the tip of Sam’s thumb like an iron sword cuts through a ghost. “Please…”

Sam nods. He parts Dean’s lips with his thumb and pulls his jaw down. “I know,” he says, brushing over Dean’s lower lip with the tips of his fingers. “I know…”

“Stay like that,” he instructs as he withdraws. “Don’t move.”

He smiles at the stubbornness with which Dean fights his instinct to disobey. Dean is trying to avoid Sam’s eyes and he’s visibly trying to keep his breathing calm and even – both to no avail. His eyes keep returning to Sam’s, darting from Sam’s fingers quickly unbuttoning his jeans back to Sam’s eyes, and when their gazes meet again, his breathing hitches. 

“Just like that,” Sam murmurs and takes a step closer, freeing his cock from the confines of his clothes. He’s rock hard, even though he doesn’t even remember when and how he got hard. His cock in one hand, he reaches for Dean’s jaw again and leans down.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth now,” he says very calmly and Dean tries to swallow around his open mouth. Sam’s cock twitches in his hand as Dean’s eyes widen and the muscles of his jaws briefly clench under Sam’s touch.

“That’s right,” he says, tightening his hold on Dean. “I’m going to fuck that gorgeous mouth of yours good and hard and you’re going to take it. Just like that. Do you understand?”

Dean nods and breaks eye contact again, but just for another second or so. 

“Do you understand?” Sam repeats and lets go of Dean’s jaw. He reaches around Dean’s head and grabs a tight hold of Dean’s hair. He jerks Dean’s head back so Dean has to look at him again, his mouth still open wide. “Dean. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Dean croaks and quickly swallows, before he opens his mouth again, nodding.

“Good.” Sam nods and takes another step closer, bringing his cock to Dean’s mouth. He runs the tip over Dean’s lips for a moment, making them glisten with his pre-come. For half a second or so he thinks that he can feel Dean’s tongue against his skin and the slight blush on Dean’s cheeks tells him that he probably did.

“Lick them”, he says, withdrawing again a little. “Lick your lips.”

Mesmerized, he stares at the tip of Dean’s tongue darting out and running over his glistening lips and at the way Dean repeats that motion following his husky demand of “Again…”

When he can’t take it anymore, he pulls Dean’s head back and shoves his cock between Dean’s lips. He doesn’t take any time, he just pushes in as far as he can and when the tip of his cock hits the back of Dean’s throat and Dean gags, a bolt of arousal shoots through him that nearly sends him to his own knees. 

He pulls out and pushes back in, again and again, and he can already feel his orgasm building inside of him after only a few harsh thrusts.

Dean coughs and gags around him and Sam’s cock is wet with saliva by now, just like Dean’s chin. Sam can’t bring himself to stop fucking Dean’s mouth, though, or maybe because, and when Dean’s eyes pool over and tears start streaming down his cheeks, Sam even increases his pace, his fist tightening in Dean’s hair.

“Yeah,” he huffs as he thrusts back in, “take it. Just take it. Yeah, just like that. God, just like that.”

He knows he’s getting close and he knows that this isn’t going to last much longer, but the sight in front of him is so intoxicating that he just has to keep going. He watches his cock disappear in Dean’s mouth again and again, Dean’s lips trying to close around it mostly in vain, and he can feel Dean’s saliva drip down its length and over his balls and somewhere in a very remote part of his brain he registers that Dean is rubbing himself through his jeans and that the coughing and gagging streaming from his mouth is mixed with husky moans and strangled sobs by now.

“Yeah,” he huffs and thrusts forward again, burying himself in the hot wetness between Dean’s lips one more time before he tosses his head back and comes.

His whole body is shaking as he empties himself into Dean’s hungry mouth. Spurt after spurt he fills Dean’s throat with his come and he forces himself to open his eyes and look at Dean once more.

Dean’s eyes are fixed on him as he takes it, as he takes everything Sam has to give.

“God,” Sam pants as his climax finally ebbs, Dean’s lips still loosely wrapped around him. “God, Dean…”

Dean doesn’t move, he just doesn’t move and for a moment Sam feels as if he might come again. He takes a deep, shaky breath and pulls out, his hand making its way around Dean’s head and back to his jaw. 

“Swallow,” he murmurs and immediately Dean’s muscles follow his order. 

Dean still never breaks eye contact and Sam just looks at him for a moment, lips swollen and bruised, face wet with tears and spit. Sam’s heart stutters and his chest tightens.

“Beautiful,” he says, nodding, and lightly strokes Dean’s cheek with his thumb. For a moment he almost feels soulless again. “You did so well.”

Dean leans into his touch, his sticky skin hot against Sam’s sweaty palm. His eyelids flutter and he flexes the muscles in his jaws.

“Here,” Sam murmurs, gently massaging Dean’s cheek with the tips of his fingers for a little while. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He quickly tucks himself in and holds his hand out to help Dean stand up.

But Dean just keeps looking up at him, his hands still crossed behind his back. He stays like that for a small eternity, his breathing slowly evening out and the erection in his jeans gradually going down, his eyes fixed on Sam, filled with so much pain and gratitude that Sam’s throat constricts.

“Okay,” Dean finally whispers, and even as a whisper Sam can hear how incredibly hoarse Dean’s voice is. How raw. “Okay,” he says again, a little firmer this time, and reaches for Sam’s hand.

He lets go of it again the same moment he has struggled back to his feet and the look in his eyes changes from one second to the next. He straightens his back and turns away, taking a measured step towards the bathroom. His shoulders sag briefly when he staggers but he straightens himself up to his full height again almost instantly.

“Dean—“

Sam is cut short by a quickly raised hand and a surreptitious shift in Dean’s stance.

Dean shakes his head and takes another step and then another, becoming steadier by each one he takes. He pauses when he reaches the door, resting his hand on the handle, and takes a deep, shaky breath.

When the door falls shut behind him, Sam flinches. His legs suddenly feel numb and he has to sit down. The edge of his bed is nearest, so he sinks down on it, rubbing his palms over his thighs. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and watches his shaking hands. There’s still one of Dean’s hairs stuck between his fingers and he makes it fall to the floor with a quick blow of air, trying to find it again amongst the dirty patterns of the motel’s worn-out carpet.

After a while, the shower starts to run in the bathroom and Sam buries his face in his hands and closes his eyes. He can hear Dean coughing in there and he imagines the warm spray washing away all those traces from Dean’s face. 

He wonders how long the bruises on Dean’s lip will stay as he imagines his thumb brushing over them as gentle as the devil’s touch.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [sal-si-puedes](http://sal-si-puedes.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, come and say "Hi"!


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